


First Fight

by apollosoyuz



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Comfort, Domestic, Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Fluffy Ending, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-10
Updated: 2017-02-10
Packaged: 2018-09-23 05:41:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,431
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9643028
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/apollosoyuz/pseuds/apollosoyuz
Summary: The first time they fought was loud and then quiet.In which Yuuri panics and blames Viktor, and Viktor doesn't realize the impact his petty response will have on Yuuri until it's too late.Translated into Russianhere!





	

The first time they fought was loud and then quiet.

 

"Yuuri, relax, it's not a big deal!" Viktor insisted, but his tone of voice was anything but relaxing. "I told you we'll find it - it's around here somewhere! Where did you leave it?"

"It was right here," Yuuri sighed; saying the same thing for probably the hundredth time was seriously exasperating, and he could feel tears pricking at his eyes. "I told you, I left it right here, and you always move things on the counter!"

"I do not!" Viktor demanded, "I swear to god I didn't touch it! Why did you even take it off anyway?"

_Don't cry_ , Yuuri told himself, digging his hands into fists, _don't you dare cry_. "I was doing the dishes this morning after breakfast and I was afraid it would slip off and fall down the drain!" Yuuri rubbed his thumb over the empty spot where his ring should be. Without it, he felt naked; he had taken to turning it around his finger as a way to ground himself and keep his anxiety in check, but now with the ring missing and Viktor yelling at him, he could feel his hard-wrought grasp on his emotions slipping. "You never do housework anyway, so it's not like you would know!"

"That's a lie!" Viktor shouted, running his fingers violently through his hair, pushing his silvery bangs back from his eyes, and the dishevelment only made him look more frantic. "And where else am I supposed to look, Yuuri? How am I supposed to help you find it when all you're doing is blaming me?"

"Well you're not helping anyway!" Yuuri snapped back, hoping Viktor couldn't hear the tremor in his voice. Apparently he really couldn't.

"Fine," Viktor turned sharply, grabbing his bag from beside the door, "find it yourself, then. I'm going to the rink."

"Viktor-"

The door slammed shut with an echoing finality; an earthquake straight through Yuuri's bones.

 

That night, everything was quiet. Yuuri had hoped that some time to himself was what Viktor needed to cool down, but when he walked through the door that night, there was a change in him - like he had gone back in time and the Viktor that Yuuri was looking at now was one from a year ago, before they had ever met. He acted like a stranger.

 

Yuuri cooked dinner as a peace offering, and was setting their plates on the table when Viktor got home. His cellphone was pressed between his shoulder and his ear, and he was chatting happily with whoever was on the other line.

"Viktor, I-"

But Viktor ignored him as if he neither saw nor heard Yuuri - as if Yuuri was a ghost or a shadow, or something so imperceptibly small that it wasn't worth bothering to notice. Even still, as he locked the door behind him, he switched to speaking Russian; a passive attack against the Yuuri he refused to acknowledge by choosing the language he couldn't understand. Yuuri was suddenly filled with a deep fear that Viktor was talking about him -- or worse, about _them_. Viktor crossed the floor to the refrigerator and pulled out a cold takeout box, laughing with the person on the other line as he snatched a fork from the drawer and disappeared into the other room, his eyes skimming past Yuuri as if he was nothing more than a piece of the background. The sound of his laughter was like knives in Yuuri's chest; Viktor was supposed to laugh like that for him. The kitchen table, set with their two plates, seemed to pull further and further away from him, as if the whole room was being stretched and warped under his feet. His thumb instinctively went to his finger to touch the cool metal band of his ring, but it wasn't there. He reached out to the counter for stability, feeling the whole world turn sickeningly around him. The sound of Viktor's voice in the next room seemed impossibly far away. He didn’t know how long he stood like that, grasping tightly to the counter like a lifeline.

 

Suddenly nauseated as the world turned jarringly beneath him, Yuuri abandoned their untouched dinner and went straight to bed. He paused for a moment as he passed the living room where Viktor was now reading a book in his armchair, wordlessly begging Viktor to come to bed with him, but Viktor didn't even look up. Finally Yuuri gave in and retreated to the bedroom alone, his body feeling like it weighed a thousand pounds, and yet impossibly, painfully lighter for lack of the ring - as if a part of himself was missing.

 

\---

 

Viktor slept on the couch that night, knees drawn up to his chest, but it was cold there in the living room - or maybe it was just cold without the familiar curve of Yuuri's body beside him. He hugged his pillow tight to his chest, dry anger welling up in him again - why did Yuuri have to be so stubborn? The ring was just a ring - yes, it was important to him, but was it really important enough to start a fight like this? It was like those damn nuts in Barcelona all over again - that night Yuuri had made him walk across half the city in the cold to find the tiny bag that had probably just been thrown away as trash. He'd been so frantic over losing them, even though they meant nothing - absolutely nothing! And of course he understood the significance of the ring - it was important to him too - but all Yuuri had done was panic and blame him for moving it, and was a simple ring really worth fighting like this?

 

Viktor sighed, giving up on sleep, throwing back his blanket and crossing the flat into the kitchen for a glass of water. Their two plates of dinner still sat on the table untouched - so Yuuri had gone to bed without even eating.

 

Viktor filled a glass from the tap and took a sip, but the taste of the lukewarm water only made his stomach turn. He felt sick and empty and guilty, but this was Yuuri's fault! Yuuri was the one who had taken off the ring in the first place, and Yuuri was the one who had accused him of moving it!

 

He dumped the remainder of the water back into the sink and set down the glass, marching pointedly back to the living room. A thin band of light shone out from under the door to their bedroom. And - oh god, from behind the closed door, he could hear the faint sound of Yuuri crying.

 

Forgetting the ring, forgetting their fight, Viktor shoved the door open.

"Yuuri!"

The other man looked up, surprised. His eyes were red and puffy like he'd been crying for a long time already, and he was clutching a pillow to his chest in a death grip. Viktor could see the damp spot on the pillowcase from his tears.

"Yuuri, oh my god, are you alright?"

"Viktor?" Yuuri choked out his name, and the broken sound of his voice sent a stab through Viktor's heart. As if he expected Viktor to be pleased to see him crying like this; as if this was what Viktor had wanted. And almost imperceptibly, he flinched away as Viktor approached - as if he expected Viktor to yell at him; to laugh in his face, or tell him he deserved this.

"Yuuri! Oh, my Yuuri, did something happen?" Viktor sat down on the side of the bed, reaching down to stroke Yuuri's hair.

"I-" he gasped through the tears, "I still haven't found the ring. I thought-" he rubbed at his eyes with his fist, pulling himself upright in bed, the pillow still clutched tight to his chest. "The way you were ignoring me, I was afraid that you-" his voice dissolved into more tears, and Viktor grabbed him, pulling him close. The words died out in his throat, but Viktor knew the other man well enough to realize what they were. _-That you didn't love me anymore_.

"Oh my god, Yuuri," he whispered into his hair, "I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry, Yuuri. I never wanted to make you cry. You know I'd never stop loving you!"

"But I lost the ring-"

"So what!" Viktor gasped, squeezing Yuuri to his chest, pressing his lips to Yuuri's forehead, "it's just a ring! We can always get another! I'd rather have you than the stupid ring any day! Don't you know that?" He vigorously rubbed Yuuri's shoulder as he spoke, as if trying to warm him; as if to melt away the dark sadness inside him. "But in the morning, we'll turn the whole apartment inside out to look for it. I'll call Yurio and Mila and Georgi, and we'll spend the whole day looking until we find it. Maybe I could even trick Yakov into coming over to help-"

This managed to get a choked laugh from Yuuri, and Viktor smiled.

"That's my Yuuri," he cooed, slowly working the damp pillow out of Yuuri's arms and pulling him closer, and Yuuri abandoned the pillow in favour of slipping his arms around Viktor's waist, and he rested his head against Viktor's chest, and with him there, Viktor finally felt like he could breathe again. "I'm so sorry, Yuuri. I never meant for this to go so far. I never wanted to make you cry - not ever."

"Not even back in the garage when you said that you'd quit being my coach if-"

"Are you trying to start another fight, Yuuri Katsuki, because I'm not falling for it!" Viktor teased, but from the corner of his eye he could see the faint turn of Yuuri's smile.

"I'm sorry I accused you of moving it. And of not doing housework."

"You're right though; I really don't do housework. I'll try to do better. I'm sorry I'm so petty."

"You can be very petty," Yuuri agreed, and Viktor snorted out a laugh.

"You're supposed to disagree and say I'm perfect."

"I really am sorry, Viktor. I just... it feels so strange for it to be gone..." he glanced down at his empty hand, turning it over in the orange lamplight as if expecting the ring to reappear on his finger by magic. "It's just so important to me, I-"

"It's important to me too, Yuuri - of course it is! But not as important as you are. We can always get another ring."

"I guess you're right," Yuuri sighed, dropping his hand, but he didn't sound convinced.

"How about I make you some tea, hm?" Viktor squeezed his shoulder gently, "How does that sound?"

Yuuri nodded, and they slid off the bed together, Viktor holding his arm tight around Yuuri's shoulders as they made their way into the kitchen. Viktor pushed Yuuri down into a chair and cleared away last night's untouched dinner before putting the kettle on the stove.

"You must be hungry."

Yuuri shook his head sullenly, resting his chin in his hand. Glancing over his shoulder, Viktor could see him still staring at his hand; staring at the pale band of skin where the ring should be.

"Do you think it could be in the vacuum? I'll cut the bag open in the morning - and I'll call a plumber to check the disposal in the sink. He can take the drain apart and look inside. And I'll dig through the garbage bin. Please, Yuuri, stop worrying. We'll find it. I know we will."

Yuuri nodded, rubbing his thumb over the empty spot where the ring should be, and Viktor took Yuuri's hand in his and gently kissed the back of his fingers.

"Do you want to wear mine until we find it? Would that make you feel better?"

"It wouldn't fit. Your fingers are too slender."

"You can hold my hand, then, and whenever you want to turn your ring, you can turn mine." He gently brushed Yuuri's hair back from his eyes and kissed his forehead, letting his lips linger there for an extra second to feel the warmth of Yuuri's skin.

 

The kettle began to whistle and Viktor broke away to cut off the stove, reaching into the cabinet for their mugs, but then his hand froze, suspended there in midair.

"Yuuri," he gasped, " _Yuuri!_ "

"What?"

And Viktor turned, his face lit with astonishment and disbelief, and between his fingers he held the small gold ring. "Yuuri," he whispered again, his voice breathless "I found it."

"Oh my god-"

"I found it!" He said again, louder, as if his voice had suddenly returned to his throat. "I found it, Yuuri, it was right there in the cabinet!"

And Yuuri laughed, tears of relief flooding to his eyes, and Viktor could visibly see the tension melting out of his body; the relaxing of his rigid shoulders, the release of his jaw, the smoothing of the lines on his forehead.

 

And then Viktor dropped to one knee, and even after all this time together, despite having already exchanged these same rings once before, his fingers still trembled a bit as he reached out to take Yuuri's hand.

"Yuuri Katsuki, may I have your hand?"

Yuuri only nodded - all his words were gone - and Viktor slowly slipped the ring onto Yuuri's finger before drawing Yuuri's hand up to his lips for a kiss.

 

And once again Yuuri burst into tears, his cheeks flushed pink, and he threw his arms around Viktor's neck, breathing in the smell of his hair, feeling the solidity of his body, and Viktor squeezed him back, laughing as he felt tears prick at his own eyes.

"I love you Viktor," Yuuri breathed, finally releasing his tight grip around Viktor in order to rub the messy tears off his face, and Viktor took this chance to pull Yuuri's face to his; to pull Yuuri's lips to his; and when Yuuri kissed him, everything in the world felt right again. He kissed Yuuri gently at first, and then desperately, as if trying to make up for the day they had spent apart and all the wrongs he had done. "I love you so much," Yuuri finally whispered as they broke away, and how on earth was his voice so level even when Viktor was left breathless?

"Not as much as I love you," Viktor murmured back, quickly wiping at his own eyes before Yuuri could see the tears that had spilled over there. "Now let’s get to bed. It's late, and I want you next to me."


End file.
